


Too Intimate, Not Appropriate

by im_adopted



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Black Wings - Freeform, Castiel flying, Demon Dean mention, Destiel - Freeform, Fluff, M/M, Wing Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-22
Updated: 2016-07-22
Packaged: 2018-07-26 01:01:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7554151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/im_adopted/pseuds/im_adopted
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel and Dean spend time together at a creek in the rain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Too Intimate, Not Appropriate

Sam knew that there was something wrong with Dean. Ever since he'd encountered his demon self, talked to him, it was all wrong. Dean isn't there anymore. Well, he is. He's just not there there. He's always drinking - more so then he did before - and he won't talk to Sammy unless it's about a hunt or a supply run.

To say that Sam's worried would be an understatement, and to be honest, he's a bit scared.

Cas hasn't been around since the demon thing, and that was over five months ago. Sure, he's talked to Sam, but not when Dean's there. And to Sam's knowledge, Dean hasn't even prayed, and he used to pray every night. For something, someone, to help. But anything Sam tried to get the two near each other was always futile, simply because they just didn't want to see each other and they were willing to risk their friendship to make sure it played through.

>>>><<<<

The impala always ended up being Dean's peace. He'd just get up and drive anywhere to get away from everything that was happening. Especially Sam. He needed to get away from that.

He pulled up along an old dirt track near a creek that no one ever visited anymore. He and Sammy used to hang around here when Dad was drunk, not because he'd hurt them, because he never would, but because he got so emotional about Mary's death that he'd cry and cry until he'd drop onto his bed, exhausted from the lack of sleep and the amount of alcohol in his system. Dean didn't want Sam to have an emotional upbringing, where crying was normal all the time, so he'd take him away whenever he could.

The old rope was still hanging off the tree, where a tyre used to be attached to the end. He remembered swinging from the rope and then ending up with a broken arm from swinging so high that he smacked right into a branch above him. It was fun, but Sammy had witnessed it and started crying, screaming, "Your arm isn't supposed to bend that way!"

He opened the door of the Impala, stepping a foot onto the crunching rocks scattered across the ground. They were sharp on bare feet, he remembered that much.

Dean shut the door, taking a swig of the beer in his hand. He strode around the front of the car to sit on the bonnet, like he always did. The metal popped a bit until he way actually seated against the windscreen, and then he just relaxed.

That's when it happened. The flurry of leaves made it easy to notice - a gust of wind that big couldn't just pop up from out of anywhere - and then the metal popped as another person sat down.

He splayed his trench coat along the windscreen as he took it off, unbuttoned his white shirt and pulled off his white undershirt, his shoes and socks with it. No words were said, but there was a nod, and then he was off. His black wings spread out far, further then he would have been able to were he just walking, but flying, oh, that was something totally different.

Castiel whooped as air bent around his wings and body, the trees around the creek tall enough to hide him flying around. But every so often, when he had the momentum, he would go down to drag his fingers through the water, then shoot up like a torpedo into the sky. This would go on for hours, from lunch till at least dark, but it was exhilarating, amazing, and fucking terrible.

A black feather would fall sometimes, whenever a new one would start to grow in, old ones would drop. Sometimes, if Dean was lucky, the feather would fall near him, on the car, near the car, and he'd pick it up. He loved them, but would never keep them. Too intimate, not appropriate. Although he wanted to, always. But he was only here as support, watch Cas and make sure no one was around.

He felt it before he saw it. A little drop of water fell on his forehead, then another on the bonnet, another on his hand, and soon the rain was plummeting down. Dean didn't care, they had only been here for about an hour, and Castiel needed this. He moved to sit under the tree, with Castiel's clothes under his arm, leaning against the old pine, and pulled his jacket tighter around his chest. He layed the trench coat over his lap to keep him warm, and left the shirts bundled up on his lap. His fingers were already numb, but that was only because he was holding a cold beer.

Dean shuddered, tucking his chin into the top of his jacket, and looked up suddenly, hearing something.

It was Castiel. He was laughing! It was loud and gleeful and absolutely perfect, his arms spread out along with his wings, and chose that second to shoot up into the sky. Even through the thick rain, Dean could see the rain drops flying off of his wings like little bullets, until he opened up again and tumbled to the earth, catching himself just before he hit the water.

Whenever he did that, Dean's breath would catch. He was always worried that Castiel wouldn't pull up, he'd get to caught up in the feeling of falling, he'd fall into the water and his wings would drag him down.

No, Dean thought bitterly. Look at him, he's beautiful.

And he truly was. He would laugh gleefully, almost like he forgot who he was, what he was. He'd forget that he was an angel of the Lord, a warrior. A brother. To Sammy, at least. Dean, not so much.

Dean knew he wasn't straight, right from the time he had seen Castiel in the barn, all the way through to now, he knew that he wasn't and never would be able to love just a woman. Every girl he'd ever liked, or even just wanted a one-night stand with would always find a way to get hurt or killed. He wasn't okay with that, not at all. Castiel, although, he could handle himself. He could handle himself and Dean. He knew it could happen, if once upon a time Dean couldn't help himself.

As much as he didn't want it to come up, it always did. His mind drifted back to the Demon Dean. The one that had abused him in his own mind, using his own faults and insecurities against him.

>>><<<

"Dean, Dean, Dean." Demon Dean smirked, spinning a blade on his finger tip, much like someone would spin a basketball. "I know what you're scared of, and it's not just losing precious baby Sammy either."

Whenever he'd come close enough, Dean would whack a spit straight onto the demon's boot. He'd only ever laugh though, tsking at Dean's uselessness, and slash his back with the blade. There were enough cuts to put every other one of his scars to shame, threefold.

"Poor Cassy, out there trying to help you while you're stuck in here." Demon Dean laughed, his head falling back. After about a minute or so, he looked down at Dean, his hand lifting to wipe a fake tear from his eye. "Oh, you are such a whiny girl, Dean."

"Fucking bastard," Dean hissed, careful not to shake too much. The cuts on his back were bad, and he wasn't willing to inflict pain upon himself.

"What if I just pushed Cas up against the wall?" Demon Dean said, his voice dripping dark humor. "Kissed him till he was being me to fuck him senseless? Dry humping on my leg because I make him so damn hard, huh, Dean?"

"FUCK YOU," Dean shouted, thrashing against the chains holding him in place. "Don't dare lay a fucking hand on him you son of a bitch."

"Aw, poor baby missing the action." Demon Dean fake sniffed, tossing the blade to the side. "Wanna see how Cas would like that?"

Before Dean could stop him, Demon Dean went out again and Dean was stuck watching what he'd do in his body.

Cas was right there.

No

God no

"DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE!" Dean shouted into the void, hearing nothing but a faint chuckle. "Leave him, please..."

"Dean?" Castiel asked curiously, looking him over.

"It's not me, please don't think that it's me, Cas." Dean's voice was weak, almost broken, but still trying to sound strong. "Please."

Demon Dean lifted up his hand and placed it on Castiel's shoulder, like he was familiar with holding him so closely. The demon pulled him closer, but Cas just pulled away.

"What...?" Castiel asked, confused.

"Cas! Castiel! Please, hear me! It's the demon! Not me! Please, Castiel! Leave him alone, dammit!" Castiel's eyes flickered, like he heard something, but then didn't think further into it. "Castiel, Angel of the Lord, please hear my prayer..."

"...so would you like to? Go to a bar?" Demon Dean asked Cas, his arm slung over Castiel's shoulders.

"...you know me, Cas. You know that I wouldn't..." Dean choked for a second, racking out a sob. "I wouldn't hold you like that. You know that I couldn't, not without pulling away a second later. You've been in my head, you know what is me."

Dean was trying to hard to make him hear, praying to him, begging him, listen to me, please!

"Look into my head, Castiel. Look and see that it's not me, please."

For what seemed like a nanosecond, Cas turned in his hold under Demon Dean's arm and looked at Dean in the eyes. The actual Dean. A light flooded the room Dean was in for a moment before Cas pulled away, saying that he was busy. Then gone.

>>><<<

Dean shook his head, making those thoughts fly away, almost shitting himself when Cas plummeted to the ground next to him, landing gracefully.

Cas was grinning, so widely you'd think that his face would split, and he laughed. His voice was still gravelly, but with a lighter tinge that made something pang deep in Dean's heart.

As soon as Dean was going to ask what he was doing, Cas shook his head like a dog, sending water droplets spraying all over Dean.

"Argh!" Dean yelped, turning away with his hands raised to catch most of the water.

Cas chuckled, walking towards Dean and sitting right next to him. He made no effort to get his clothes from Dean. He did, however, look at Dean pointedly before smiling calmly.

"You should stop worrying so much," Castiel laughed softly, tilting his head. "It's not good for your mental health."

"With you, my mental health pretty much goes down the drain."

Oops, that was more intimate then he'd thought.

"Relax, Dean." Cas sensed his tension, shuffling closer. "It's fine."

Dean didn't respond, so Cas didn't think he'd need to say anything. He just sat there, watching the rain fall, content.

It felt like hours, waiting for the rain to stop, watching Cas, it was treacherous. For Dean, anyways. But just as the rain turned into a small shower, Cas jumped up and stuck his hand out.

"Let's go," Cas said happily.

"What? Where?" Dean asked, but got up anyways.

"Take off your jacket and flannel shirt," Cas instructed, stepping into the rain again, taking more and more steps back, until he was at least ten meters away. "Leave my clothes with yours."

What? Dean did as Cas asked, feeling unnaturally bare in only his jeans, shoes and ACDC shirt.

" Shoes, too." For some reason, Dean felt strangely embarrass to have to take off his shoes in front of Cas, along with his socks. "Arms up."

"We're not going swimming, are we?" Dean asked cautiously, doing as he was told and not questioning it. He wasn't really looking at Cas but at the water instead. "Cause you know how much I hate–."

Castiel sprinted forward all of a sudden, his toes crunching and squelching on the wet ground. He threw his arms out, along with his wings and wrapped his arms around Dean, picking him up easily and holding him against his chest. Dean, although he'd never admit it, screamed for a second before wrapping his arms around Castiel's neck and holding on.

"What the fuck, Cas?! I wasn't ready for that!" Dean watched the ground get further and further away below him and clung tightly, his face pretty much in Castiel's neck. He smelt nice, Dean noted, like rain and maybe vanilla.

"Dean," Cas said in his gravelly voice, wrapping his arms around Dean's waist. "Ready?"

"For wha– Holy fuck!" Castiel dropped and caught himself before he hit the water surface.

Cas laughed, wrangling Dean's hand from his neck to hold it out against the water. If Dean hadn't been scared and hid his face, he would be realized that Cas was looking at him like that. With soft eyes, his mouth in a small smile.

"That's not even the best part," Cas whispered in Dean's ear. "This is."

Cas went faster, faster, then put his foot on a boulder nearby and vaulted into the air.

"Noooooo!" Dean shouted, using Cas as a life line. "Fucking hell!"

Castiel laughed, and when he was about two hundred meters from the ground, he held his wings out to support them in the air. "Look, Dean."

"No," he mumbled, his lips against Cas's neck. "You're not funny. Go down now."

"Remember how Gabriel said that we all got our own little pockets of the world to mess around with?" When Dean nodded, Cas said, "well, this is mine."

And he wasn't lying. No one would be able to see him in the air unless he permitted it, but there was no one around and no aircraft in the sky. His wings enclosed around them, and just as Dean thought that they'd fall, they hovered in the same place, unmoving.

"Jesus, Cas." Dean muttered, still clutching Cas. But not because of the height, because of the wings around them. It was just like it look, a giant cocoon. It felt like he was wrapped up in the softest blanket ever, with heat radiating from the wings like a heater.

Castiel smiled, managing to pull Dean's hands away from his neck. Dean let go, but still had his hands clutched to Castiel's shoulders.

"You know how much I hate flying."

"I know, Dean."

"And heights, for fuck's sake."

"I know that, too, Dean."

"But your wings, man, fuck they're warm."

"That's called body heat, Dean."

"Have they always been this warm?"

"Yes, Dean."

"Are they sensitive?"

"Yes, Dean."

"Where?"

"My back, Dean."

"Where they're connected to your back?"

"Yes, Dean, but I highly advise that you don't touch."

"Why?"

"Or else I might have to fuck you in the Impala."

"Oh."

"And I don't just have sex. I fuck. Hard."

"...oh."

Dean reached around and bunched his fingers in Castiel's wings, smiling subconsciously.

They fell down, splashing in the creek anyways. They laughed for a long time, so much that Cas had to drag Dean to shore before he swallowed too much water. As it died down, Dean asked Cas a question.

"Cas?"

"Hmm?"

"How hard do you fuck?"

"You won't be able to walk for a week."

"Oh."

"...."

"...."

"...."

"Would you like me to prove it?"

"Fuck, yes."

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it and comments are welcome! I don't know if anyone likes my work!


End file.
